


Practically Perfect

by Homeslice (Orchidae)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Nanny, Anxiety, Bullying, Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Katsuki Yuuri, Slow Burn, Supportive Katsuki Yuuri, Swearing, Victor is not prepared for the responsibilities of being a parent, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat, kid yuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:37:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orchidae/pseuds/Homeslice
Summary: Yuuri never expected to hear back from the live in nanny job but gets more than he bargained for when he's hired to look after problem child, Yuri Plisetsky who's only entertainment seems to be making his life a living hell. It doesn't help that the kid's guardian is hottest guy he's ever seen...





	1. What's the worst that could happen?

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya, thanks for reading. For some reason I felt like writing a super fluffy Cinderella story type fic so this is it. Hope you like it.

Yuuri had not expected to get a job interview that day. He hadn’t even expected to hear back from that particular job at all since he had zero professional experience in childcare. But out of all the opportunities available, the job had the highest salary by quite a wide margin in a sea of service jobs, retail and unpaid internships.

* * *

 

_Live in housekeeper/nanny - $35,000pa plus accommodation_

_Job Description – Private family looking for a nanny/housekeeper to join their family home and accompany them on trips and vacations. Working hours will cover 10-12 hours per day over 5 days a week including weekend cover (Days off during the week)_

_Duties  
You will be responsible for all housekeeping duties including cleaning all rooms, laundry, and ironing, running errands such as grocery shopping, pet care and occasional cooking when needed. Childcare duties will be before and after school where you will be in charge of morning routines and afternoon activities, helping with homework etc.  _

_Candidate requirements  
The family is looking for a hands-on individual who can get involved with both aspects of housekeeping and childcare within the home. They must have a clean driver’s license and a valid passport to be available to travel with the client. Tutoring experience is desirable. Must be dog-friendly._

_Accommodation  
Ensuite bedroom will be provided_

_Start date: ASAP_

* * *

 

It seemed simple, perhaps even too good to be true, but Yuuri had heard how demanding those rich families on the Upper East Side could be to their hired help and suspected that the ad omitted all sorts horrors. Like spoiled children and snobby parents. But the money and the prospect of a room had tempted him, especially since Phichit was moving out in a few weeks and he hadn’t found another roommate yet. Living in some swanky apartment or townhouse rent-free might be worth an army of bratty children. So he had sent in an application, not really expecting anything to come of it.

The email had arrived the same day, asking him if he was available for an interview the following morning along with an address and signed ‘V. Nikiforov’.

“What if it’s a scam?” Yuuri said as he let his roommate read the email.

“Must be a pretty elaborate scam. Have you looked up the building? That place is worth millions, maybe tens of millions,” Phichit said after typing the address into google maps. “Nikiforov, where have I heard that name before?” he immediately began typing on his phone again.

“What? Are they like Russian oligarchs or something?” Yuuri asked.

“Victor Nikiforov, five-time figure skating world champion and creator of the Agape Sportswear label? No, it can’t be him, he doesn’t have any kids. Hmm, I dunno dude, I guess they’re not online.”

“What if they don’t speak English? What if the kid’s a real monster and no one else is willing to take the job?” Yuuri was beginning to feel anxious now, maybe he should just send his apologies and cancel.

“Who knows,” Phichit said thoughtfully, “But there’s no harm in an interview right? It’s not like you have to take the job if it’s not right for you.”

“I’m just not great at confrontations. And I don’t think babysitting the Nishigori triplets really counts as childcare experience.”

“Yuuri, if you can handle the triplets, you can handle anything. If you want, I can go with you and wait outside if it’ll make you feel less nervous.” 

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” Yuuri sighed with relief, he was really going to miss living with his best friend.

“Of course not. I wanna know who this crazy rich family is and why they think hiring _you_ is a good idea!”

"Hey! What happened to me being able to handle anything!" Yuuri laughed and finally sent back a reply confirming he was available. Honestly, what was the worst that could happen?


	2. What is cram school?

 

The next morning Yuuri and Phichit made their way to Park Avenue, and aside from a minor hiccup on the subway, Yuuri was feeling relatively calm. He honestly felt quite pleased that he got through the whole morning without crying or hyperventilating.

The building was…well, it was intimidating. Georgian Revival, pale limestone, the lobby decked out in white marble with a uniformed doorman outside.

Yuuri felt distinctly underdressed and unprepared. He had opted for a navy sweater over a pale blue shirt and dark jeans. He was aiming for a loveable elementary teacher kind of look but now that he was here being given the once over by the concierge he felt he just came across as drab and slightly scruffy. He really should have done something about his hair.

“Can I help you?” the man behind the desk asked.

“Oh, uh yes, I have an appointment with the Nikiforovs. I’m Yuuri Katsuki,” he stuttered, his shirt collar suddenly feeling way too tight.

“Hold on a moment,” the concierge said as he picked up the phone. “And you are?” he asked looking at Phichit.

“Just leaving.” His friend smiled. The man rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the phone conversation. “Call me when you’re done, I’ll get us some coffee.”

“What if I mess this up?” he whispered.

“You’ll be fine,” Phichit whispered back. “You just need to loosen up a little.”

“I hate job interviews, I always make a terrible first impression.”

“Ok, breathe, think about the question before you say anything, and remember to smile. They’ll love you, I guarantee it,” his best friend reassured him, slapping him on the back before he left. Yuuri felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs.

“He’ll be right down. Please have a seat,” the concierge said gesturing towards an expensive looking couch against the far wall.

Yuuri sank into plush upholstery, trying his best to remain calm and failing. What if they asked him why he had to repeat a year in college? He couldn’t face going over that again. What if he had forgotten to state his gender on his resume and they were expecting a woman, Yuri was generally a girl’s name after all. They would take one look at him and call the police. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the elevator doors opening.

“Yuuri?”

“Um, yes!” Yuuri jumped up at the sound of his name and suddenly came face to face with literally the hottest guy he had ever seen. The man looked more like a model than someone’s dad but he supposed models had families too. Despite his silver hair, he couldn’t have been a day over thirty if Yuuri were to hazard a guess. So he would probably have to look after younger children then, that could be harder than he thought if they were anything like the Nishigori family.

“Victor Nikiforov, it’s good to meet you,” the man said and shook his hand, and oh wow Yuuri never imagined a Russian accent could sound so lovely, having always associated it with Bond villains and Vladimir Putin.

Yuuri attempted to say hello but it came out as more of a strangled whimper and blushed furiously as he followed Victor into the elevator. Wait a sec, wasn’t Victor Nikiforov the guy Phichit had looked up the day before? The figure skating guy? He wished he had had the sense to look up a picture of him to make sure. Hadn’t Phichit said he didn’t have children? What the hell was going on?

“Thank you so much for coming at such short notice, and on a Saturday as well,” Victor said, giving him a warm smile and guiding him out of the elevator towards the apartment. “It’s been a little chaotic here.”

“Oh it’s no trouble,” Yuuri replied weakly.

“Please come in, can I get you some tea or coffee?”

“Um, tea, please. If it’s not too much…” he trailed off as he stepped into the apartment, “…trouble.”

As fancy as the lobby was, it did nothing to prepare him for Victor’s apartment. The place might as well have been a museum, an eclectic collection of modern design and antique furniture all in tasteful neutral colors. The living room looked more like the cover of a design magazine than someone’s home. As he followed Victor into the kitchen he was suddenly met by the hurried clatter of nails on the hardwood floor shortly followed by a flurry of excited yapping and tail wagging as a large brown poodle leapt up at him on its hind legs.

“Oh my God! Hello to you too.” Yuuri laughed, kneeling down and petting its curly ears. “We used to have a dog just like you when I was a kid.” It was almost uncanny although this one was a lot bigger and quite a bit older.

“That’s Makkachin,” Victor said fondly, filling the kettle and putting it on the stovetop. “He likes you, that means you’ve passed the first test.”

“T-the first test?”

“Tell me Yuuri, you’ve never worked as a nanny before, what made you want to venture into professional childcare?” the man asked and Yuuri regretted looking him in the eye because now he felt pinned to spot and wow those eyes were really blue, like _ice blue,_ the most piercing blue that ever blue.

“I, well, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting a response. But your ad mentioned tutoring which I have some experience in and my family owns an onsen back in Japan, um that’s like an inn w-with a hot spring, so I guess I’ve spent a lot of my life cooking and cleaning so it seemed like something I could do,” he blushed. “Sorry, that’s not a very good answer.”

“Not at all, I was just curious. You’re not exactly the sort of person who applies for these kinds of jobs. You’re…different.” There was that smile again.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. In this case, different might be a good thing. You said in your resume that you used to teach English. Could you elaborate on that?”

“Oh, yes. Um, you see I was born here, well, not _here_ here, in San Francisco. But when I was fourteen my grandpa got sick and my family decided to move back to Japan. I was really behind when I went to school, but then this girl offered to help me out with my writing if I helped her with her English homework, so it kind of grew from there. I was a teaching assistant at a cram school for a while for high school English. And when I moved back here to go to college I was also a TA for the international student support center at NYU.”

“Cram school? What is cram school?” Victor asked looking a little confused.

“Oh, it’s like these classes you can take after school ends, to get better grades or take the college entrance exam,” Yuuri explained. “It’s actually more fun than it sounds.”

“That’s very interesting. You see I’ve recently become the legal guardian of my half-brother and well, he’s still learning English. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a very fast learner and he has lessons after school, but it might be a good idea to have someone who can help him at home as well. Would that be possible do you think?” His brother? Well that certainly explained a few things. He knew he should probably think it over but his legs were too busy turning to jelly.

“Sure,” he said shakily. They drank their tea and talked for nearly half an hour about the apartment, schedules, Victor’s travel plans for the next few weeks and Yuuri couldn’t help but notice that they had started talking about _when_ he moved in as opposed to _if_ he moved in. That was a good sign, right? That meant things were going well. But could he actually work in a place like this? It didn’t help that he found Victor so attractive, he couldn’t even imagine how distracting it would be to have a crush on his boss, not to mention inappropriate. Their main discussion was centered around Victor's brother, and Yuuri was beginning to get more than a little worried.

“I’ll be honest. It hasn’t been easy for him moving here," Victor confessed, "I’m afraid he has a tendency to act up and well, there were some incidents with the woman who used to work for us. Some words were said, some insensitive pranks were pulled, some ambulances were called…”

“Uh, sorry what?”

“…I’m sure it was all a silly misunderstanding, but word gets around pretty quick in childminding circles apparently and we seem to be on some sort of blacklist because no one else would accept this job.”

“Could you please go back to the part about the ambulances?” Yuuri cried but stopped short when Victor suddenly reached across the kitchen table and grabbed his hand.

“He’s a good boy, Yuuri. Deep down, at least. He just needs some extra support,” Victor said earnestly, “Will you be that support?”

“I-I Mr. Nikiforov, y-your hand…” Yuuri stammered. “-I mean yes! Absolutely, taking care of him would be my top priority.”

“I like you Yuuri Katsuki, you have passed the second test,” Victor said triumphantly. “Also, I am desperate. And please, call me Victor, we do not stand on formalities here.”

“W-what’s the third test?” Yuuri asked.

“Ah, yes of course!” Victor got up and practically bounced down the hallway. “He’s in his room.”


	3. The Third Test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely comments. This has been really fun to write so far.

 

Yuuri waited anxiously at the kitchen for Victor return. Things seemed to be going well so far but judging from the string of angry Russian that could be heard from the hallway that was probably going to change. He could hear Victor replying calmly as he returned with a small boy slouching behind him. He looked to be around eight or nine but his frame and face were mostly obscured by a giant black hoodie that must have been two sizes too big.

“Yuri, meet Yuuri! He’s going to take over from Jennifer.”

“WHAT!” Both Yuuri and the other Yuri cried.

“I know, I thought it was funny too,” Victor giggled, delighted by their reactions.

“H-hello Yuri.” Yuuri began to introduce himself. "It's nice to finally meet you."

The boy started saying something to Victor in Russian that sounded so scathing Yuuri actually felt glad he couldn’t understand.

“Hey, don’t be rude. Speak English when we have company, please.” Victor scolded.

“I say,” Russian Yuri growled in broken English. “I do not need babysitter. I care myself enough. You should quit now and save trouble.”

“We’ve discussed this, Yuri. I can’t leave you alone unsupervised,” Victor told him.

“We can’t have two Yuris on same house. Do you know how stupid this is?”

“Hmm, I suppose it could get a little confusing,” Victor said, as though it only just occurred to him. “We could call you Yura, or Yurchik.” Yuri pretended to gag. “Or there’s always Yurochka…”

“Fuck you! You do not tell that name!” the boy, Yuri, snarled and pulled back his hood revealing a surprisingly angelic face with a shock of pale blonde hair long enough to reach his chin. Funny how the kid's English grammar was so bad but his swearing was on point. Yuuri noticed he had the same hairstyle as a Japanese idol his sister used to like. What was his name?

“Yurio!” Yuuri blurted out then squeaked with embarrassment at the realization that he’s said it aloud, and that Victor and the other Yuri were both staring at him.

“That’s perfect! We can call you Yurio.” Victor laughed.

“What! That’s not fair, I was here first! Make him change!”

“But it’s so cute.”

“I change my mind, Yura is enough.”

“Too late, it’s done.” Victor teased.

“Ugh, I hate you!” Yurio yelled then turned on Yuuri like an angry cat, “Maybe I will call you _Svinya_ because you are a fat pig!” he spat and knocked over what was left of Yuuri’s tea before storming back to his room.

The lukewarm tea spilled into his lap and all over Yuuri’s best sweater and jeans as the cup broke into three neat pieces as it hit the floor. Yuuri gasped and quickly jumped up to avoid the small river that had flowed across the table top and onto the tiled floor. To his credit Victor looked absolutely mortified.

“I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri said, picking up what was left of the cup and looking around for where they kept the paper towel.

“No, that was my fault. I was being insensitive and I upset him, it wasn’t about you.” Victor sighed.

“Oh,”

“That actually went better than I thought, though. I think he might like you.”

“I think you might be overly optimistic.”

“Maybe,” Victor agreed, then noticed Yuuri’s sodden state. “You’re soaked. Let me lend you a change of clothes.”

“I-, no no I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad,” A change of clothes. Victor’s clothes. Victor wanted him to wear his clothes. The thought alone made his brain short circuit.

“Please, I insist. I think I might have some things that’ll fit you,” before Yuuri could protest he had disappeared into a small utility room and returned with a pair of gray slacks that probably cost more than Yuuri’s entire outfit and a long-sleeved t-shirt with gray and black stripes. “The guest bathroom is the first door on the left.”

The clothes were soft and well-worn and smelled of lavender fabric softener. The fit was alright, perhaps a little snug around the waistband, being sad and unemployed hadn’t exactly been good for his diet these past few weeks. Yuri’s insult might have stung a little more than he wanted to admit. He needed to roll up the sleeves and pant legs a little since Victor was a good deal taller than he was. Yuuri blushed at the thought of Victor wearing them before him as he wiped the drops of tea from his glasses. Were they his favorites? Did he like to lounge around in them?

If he got the job he would probably get flustered every time he had to wash Victor’s clothes or worse his bedsheets. He felt like such a creep but he probably didn’t need to worry about that for long. Despite Victor’s wishful thinking, Yuri definitely didn’t like him, and how could he look after him if they didn’t get along? He had failed the final test. Of course, he wasn’t going to get the job. The thought upset him more than he thought, and it wasn’t just because of Victor, he genuinely felt bad for Yuri. Yuuri knew better than anyone what moving to a new country felt like, how lonely it had been at first. And if he had only recently come to live with Victor, then it didn't take a genius to figure out something awful must have happened to him in the past. 

The guest bathroom was as tasteful and bright and impersonal as the rest of the apartment with one small difference. There was a gold medal hanging from the mirror frame from the 2014 Winter Olympics. Impulsively, Yuuri picked it up off its hook and tried it on. It wasn’t as though he was ever going to come back, right? It was heavier than he expected, but strangely it made him feel a little more confident. It didn’t matter if he had failed the interview, there were more jobs out there and perhaps next time he would get lucky. He snapped a quick photo on his phone then put the medal back and returned to the kitchen.

Victor looked up from his phone and stared at him a little longer than was necessary. Yuuri panicked. Had he done something wrong?

“Did you try on the medal?” Victor said finally, as though suddenly realizing neither of them had said anything.

“What? Oh, I- yes. Sorry.” Yuuri blushed as being caught out.

“People like to wear the medal.” The other man nodded sagely.

“Thank you for the clothes, you didn’t have to do this,” Yuuri said, about to make his excuses and leave.

“It’s nothing. You can return them when you move in.” the man replied with a hopeful smile that made Yuuri’s knees weak.

“Wait. You mean that…?”

“The job’s yours, if you still want it that is…” Victor clarified “What do you think? Will you stay with us?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes would be nice,” Victor must have seen his hesitation, “Maybe take some time to think things over and if you could let me know your decision by tomorrow that would be great.”

“I’ll do it.” Yuuri blurted out. He wasn’t thinking straight. He knew he should probably take Victor’s advice and think it over a little, but at the same time, he knew he didn’t need to think about it at all. Phichit was moving on and starting a new life with his boyfriend, and their place was an overpriced shoebox that wouldn’t be the same without him, and if he was going to have to live with a stranger then he couldn’t think of a nicer stranger than Victor.

“Really?” Victor’s face seemed to light up like the sun shining on fresh snow.

“Yes,”

“You’re quite sure.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Can you start on Monday?”

-

Yuuri had stayed another half hour or so, as they discussed the job contract in more detail exchanged numbers and went over Yuri’s schedule for the following week. He was also given a proper tour of the apartment, which aside from the kitchen had four bedrooms with private bathrooms, a large open-plan living room and dining area, a den, and a home office. Yuuri’s room was probably the plainest of these, with a double bed, a desk, an empty closet and bookcase with a small bathroom. While he was looking around Yuuri sent Phichit an excited text that he was going to be working for _the_ Victor Nikiforov, then as an afterthought sent him the selfie he had taken in the bathroom and was rewarded by a string of exclamation points and emojis as Victor escorted him back to the lobby.

He could see Phichit waiting on the street outside as the elevator doors opened, brandishing bags of shopping and a giant Starbucks cup. His friend gave him a thumbs up through the glass doors and Yuuri did his best not to laugh like an idiot in front of Victor.

“Perhaps it would be easier for you to move in tomorrow evening, so you can get settled,” Victor said suddenly. “You could have dinner with us.” That was a little soon, wasn’t it? But maybe if he only packed his essentials and came back for the rest of his things the following weekend.

“Sure, that would be great.” Yuuri smiled.

“Will six be alright?”

“Okay.”

“Until tomorrow then,” Victor said. Yuuri noticed as they shook hands that Victor had touched his shoulder with his other hand. In any other context, it might have sounded like he was asking him on a date.

 

*

 

“I knew you’d nail it! Are you kidding! That arctic fox was Victor Nikiforov? Holy shit!” Phichit squealed when he got outside, enveloping him in a tight hug. Then he noticed what Yuuri was wearing. “Wait a minute, did you change?”

“Oh, there was an accident with some tea. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Did he dress you?” Yuuri blushed, “You lucky bitch. So when do you start?”

“Monday, well tomorrow night actually,” Yuuri explained.

“Wow, that’s…soon. I thought I was leaving first.”

“I’m sorry it’s so unexpected,” he had hoped they would have more time together and by the look Phichit was giving him the younger man felt the same. “But, we’ll still see each other all the time, right? I mean we won’t be that far apart and I’ll have some free time on weekends.”

“I know, I know, I’m just being stupid. We should totally celebrate! I’ll call Seung-gil and the others. It’ll be like a class reunion!”

“You know, I’d love to, but I’ve got to pack and get everything together,” Yuuri said nervously. He never really knew what to do at parties.

“Come on! I still have that bottle of Limoncello the Crispinos brought back from Naples. You remember? The big one shaped like a cello?”

Yuuri was overcome by a wave of nausea. Yes, he definitely remembered. “You promised you’d never speak of the Lemon Cello again.”

“We’ll get something else then, We’ll order take out, put on Just Dance, get wasted and make fools of ourselves. Drunk Yuuri is due for a comeback.”

“Drunk Yuuri is a human disaster, okay. We don’t need to invite Drunk Yuuri. Last time I thought I’d left myself a glass of water before going to sleep. Turns out it was just more vodka.” Drunk Yuuri was an asshole.

“Last time you were pole dancing to Aerosmith.”

“What? I don’t remember that!”

“Please! This could be our last chance to hang out for a while.” Phichit was giving him the pleading eyes that made him look a bit like one of his hamsters. Yuuri sighed.

“Fine," Yuuri sighed in resignation "We can have a party.”


	4. You're a Manny?

 

“So what’s he doing with a kid?” Phichit asked, sitting beside Yuuri on their battered couch where he was glued to his laptop.

“He’s his younger brother,” Yuuri replied

“What was he like?” Yuuri thought about it for a moment.

“Did you ever see the Omen?” he answered, finally.

“Really? That bad?”

“No, he just threw tea over me…and called me fat.”

“Whoah, jeez.”

“Yeah, I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to get him to like me. I’m thinking bribery, but that might escalate into something I can’t afford.”

“Just be yourself, dude. Make him that pork dish thing, that stuff could win anyone over.”

“I guess I could try that, my mom makes it better, though.”

“Yes, so you’ve said. You’ve got this, you’ll parent the shit out of that kid.”

“Oh my God, did you see that?!” Yuuri cried as a younger version of Victor landed a perfect quad flip on his laptop screen. “How is that even humanly possible?”

Somehow their afternoon had moved away from packing and had turned into a fact-finding mission about Victor Nikiforov which had then turned into a binge-watching session of all of Victor’s old skating routines on Youtube. Yuuri, who had never shown any interest in any sport ever, found himself captivated. He didn’t know anything about skating but he knew a thing or two about dancing and Victor seemed so connected to the music, so absorbed in the performance that even a layperson like him could see he was something exceptional. No wonder he had won so many competitions.

“Hot for your boss. Wow, what an awkward time to have a sexual awakening.”

“I’m not having a sexual awakening. I just think he’s talented.”

“I’m just saying, I’ve never really seen you act this way over a guy before. Or anyone for that matter.”

“I’ve been attracted to people before, Phichit.”

“I know, just…”

“Besides, I can’t think that way, I need to keep things professional,” Yuuri said as he clicked on the next video. Victor seemed to have stuck mostly to classical music for his song choices with the occasional film soundtrack thrown in here and there. In the past half hour, Yuuri had watched him skate to Dvorak, Mozart, and Stravinsky. But the familiar melody that started brought back a flood of memories of working himself to exhaustion with rehearsals in Minako-sensei’s tiny studio. Victor, in a costume that looked like it was made out of silver leaf skeletons that coiled gracefully down one arm, had chosen Under the Ivy for his free skate program. The choreography was vastly different of course, but the way he drifted across the ice seemed to convey more than Yuuri ever could.

Not only that but Victor had recently become an up and comer in the fashion world. He had spent his early career balancing competitive figure skating and completing a degree in fashion and costuming at the St Petersburg Art and Industry Academy. By the time he was eighteen Victor had begun choreographing his own routines, he started designing his own costumes at twenty-two and by 2014 he had launched his own line of designer sports apparel which had become successful enough to land him in the Forbes 30 under 30 list. Yuuri had taken a look at the Agape website which had the kind of stuff rich white ladies wore to yoga class. Seriously fifty dollars for a tank top?

He had also, to no one’s surprise, had done modeling work on and off since childhood. Some fan had dug up and scanned pictures of a seven-year-old Victor wearing a particularly ugly shell jacket from some Russian clothing catalog in the 90s. Yuuri couldn’t help smiling at how much he looked like Yuri at that age in a way that wasn’t as obvious as an adult.

Since then he had been the face of a number of high-profile ad campaigns in Russia and Europe including Alexandre Plokhov, Piaget, and La Nuit de L’Homme by Yves Saint Laurent. Yuuri had saved the pictures from the last one and wondered if it would be creepy if he made it his phone background. Honestly, it was rather intimidating. Victor had achieved so much in his life and he was only four years older than him whereas a year ago Yuuri had considered getting out of bed a productive day.

They had spent the rest of the day packing Yuuri’s scant belongings and cleaning the apartment in preparation for Phichit’s impromptu going away party. The party really did end up being a class reunion. Phichit had invited all their friends from the advanced ESL course Yuuri had worked on as a TA including his boyfriend Seung-gil, the Crispino twins, Emil and Guang Hong and his roommate Leo.

“Hey, you look nice today,” Sara said as Yuuri invited them in, kissing him on both cheeks which even after nearly three years of knowing her he still hadn’t gotten used to. Yuuri looked down and realized he was still wearing Victor’s clothes.

“Oh, thank you,” he blushed, he never really knew what to do when people complimented him.

“So what are we celebrating? Phichit just asked us to bring Prosecco and didn’t elaborate.” Since Yuuri and the Crispinos were the only ones in their group over twenty-one they had been relegated to alcohol duty.

“I got a job...”

“Hey, that’s awesome.” Michele congratulated him by pouring him a glass of the sparkling wine.

“…In childcare,” Yuuri finished.

“Yuuri’s following in the footsteps of Mary Poppins,” Phichit said poking his head around the kitchen door and helping himself to a glass.

“That’s kind of a career detour isn’t it?”

“I know, but I needed the money, and I get to use my TESOL diploma at least.”

“Seriously, you’re a nanny?” Michele said

“Yes,”

“A male nanny?”

“Yes,”

“A manny?”

“Do you have a problem with that?” Yuuri said, wondering if it was always going to be like this once he started his job.

“Don’t listen to him, I think you’d be great at it. You basically looked after all of us,” Sara said, slapping her brother on the arm.

“That’s sweet, but you guys didn’t need me.” Yuuri protested.

“Are you kidding? Who showed us around the city? Who took us all out for dinner after orientation? Who cheered us up when we were feeling homesick?”

“Yeah and you taught us to write good too,” Emil added from his spot on the couch.

“Face it, Yuuri, you’re essentially our dad at this point.”

“I had no idea you felt that way. I- wow thanks.” Yuuri really needed to work on receiving compliments without looking like an idiot.

“Which is why you should totally hang out with us more you big dummy! I don’t think I’ve seen you at all since you graduated,” now Yuuri was the one getting slapped on the arm.

“You’re right, of course, you’re right,” Yuuri replied feeling a little ashamed for not contacting people since leaving college. Those thoughts were short-lived as Phichit reappeared with a familiar cello-shaped bottle.

“Oh my God! You still have that Limoncello.” Sara gasped.

 

*

 

Yuuri woke up the next morning with a splitting hangover and a warm arm wrapped around him. Wait a sec! There was someone in bed with him. One, he cracked an eye open, no, two people. To his relief, it was only Emil and Sara, and all of them were more or less fully clothed, he quietly thanked every deity known to man. He attempted to get up without disturbing anyone but Emil stirred as he tried unsuccessfully to disentangle himself.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Oh hey,” Yuuri said getting up, feeling beyond humiliated. “Why are you in bed with me?”

“You invited us all to stay over,” the other man explained as though spooning him was the logical conclusion to that statement.

“Hi, Yuuri,” Sara mumbled, still half asleep and stealing Yuuri’s spot in the middle of the bed.

“Where’s Michele?” Yuuri asked, and immediately fell over a lump on the floor which turned out to be Michele in a sleeping bag.

“On the floor.”

“Oh.”

“Sara? Where am I? Am I dead? Why are you in bed with that guy? Did he do something?” Michele gasped, startled awake and not quite realizing where he was.

“Forget that, why am I wearing a unitard?” Yuuri said looking down at what he was wearing for the first time.

“Oh, that,” Emil chuckled. “We started out by mixing what was left of the Limoncello with the Prosecco which I wanted to call a Limosa but you all went with Limonsecco which was less cool. Then we were all trying on your dance clothes so we could play that video game and then you were teaching us to do twirly ballet things. Sorry I broke your lamp by the way.” He finished “Also sorry for my boner just now, it was not for you.”

“Oh, right.” Damnit Drunk Yuuri strikes again. “I didn’t do anything embarrassing, did I? Like something that could potentially come back to haunt me and ruin my life.” Yuuri said finding his phone where he had presumably dropped it on the floor.

“No, no. Well…”

“What?”

“There might be some videos made. But it’s fine, you have clothes on this time. Don’t worry.”

“Oh fuck!” Yuuri cursed checking his phone.

“I tell you it’s nothing to worry about.”

“No, this!” he showed the other man his phone where he had sent Victor Nikiforov, world renowned figure skater and his new boss, a poorly spelled drunken text message at three am saying ‘Saw ur FS. Whar r the chancess!’ with a link to a video on his Under the Ivy choreography.

*

 

“This is crazy. I am in no way prepared for this,” Phichit said as Yuuri was about to leave.

“Well, how do you think I feel? And who knows if I still have the job! He probably thinks I’m an idiot. What if he realizes I was drinking? I mean who sends people videos of themselves dancing in the middle of the night?” he could feel himself panicking.

“At least it wasn’t a sexy dance. And you know, as far as drunk texting goes it’s pretty harmless. Maybe he saw it, thought ‘oh, cool, same song’ and didn’t give it a second thought.” Phichit said weakly.

“He hasn’t replied to it. What does that mean? Do you think he hasn’t seen it yet? What if he sees it when I’m there and fires me on the spot in front of his snooty doorman?”

“Yuuri, come on now, breathe.” Yuuri did as he was told. “And relax. Everything will be fine.”

“Everything will be fine,” Yuuri repeated as his cab arrived.

“Promise me you’ll call.”

“Phichit, who else am I going to talk to?”

“I just don’t want you to forget about me when you’re playing housewife for your new man.”

“Oh yeah, I seduced him with me interpretive dance skills.” Yuuri laughed. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

 

*

 

“Yuuri! It’s good to see you again. Did you get here okay?” Victor immediately took his second bag and carried it to the elevator.

“Oh, yes, no problems,” Yuuri replied, so far so good.

“Good, good. Before I forget, here are your keys. Front door, your room, and you’ll need this card for the elevator,” he demonstrated, swiping the key card over the reader before pressing the button for their floor. “You also need it to get into the gym on the first floor if you want to use it.”

“Thank you.”

“I can’t thank you enough for moving in at such short notice. It’s just that I need to travel overseas in two weeks and Yuri has school to go to and you know how it is.” he paused, and for a moment a hint of sadness flashed across his usually cheerful features. “I’m sorry, I’m talking too much. I haven't been sleeping well.”

“What? No. Of course not.” Yuuri said quickly, following him across the hallway and into the apartment that would be his new home for the foreseeable future. Maybe this was Victor's way of saying he didn't appreciate being drunk texted in the middle of the night. “I should be sorry. I shouldn’t have texted you so late, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

“The video? No no, don't be sorry. It was good, very emotive. Was that your own choreography?”

“Yes, mostly, my teacher helped me.”

“That used to be my favorite part. Just letting the music speak to you and seeing what your reply will be.” He smiled, but there was that look again. “Perhaps you would like to put your things away and I’ll get dinner ready.” He changed the subject.

Dinner turned out to be smoked salmon with potato salad and pickled beetroot. Yuri ate sullenly across from him at the kitchen table and there was a tension in the air that gave the impression that he and Victor had been arguing before Yuuri arrived. Actually, it was turning out to be one of the most awkward dinners he’d ever had, and that was saying something.

“I’m sorry it’s not more substantial.” Victor apologized, although it was unnecessary. "I realised there was no food in the apartment so I had to run to the deli."

“It’s delicious, thank you.” Yuuri said, feeling self-conscious, “So, uh, what brings you to America?”

“Business mostly. We recently relocated Agape’s central office here once the company went international.”

“Oh ok.”

“It’s a boring reason, yes.”

“Do you like it here, Yuri?” Yuuri asked as was met with a glare. Yurio got up from the table, scraping his chair loudly on the hardwood floor.

“I have homework.” he said, ignoring the question and leaving the room.

“It’s been an adjustment,” Victor answered for him. “You must forgive Yuri. He’s been through a lot.”

“What happened exactly? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s a long story.” Victor sighed, “But the main part you should know is before he came to live with me, Yuri was raised by his grandfather. He died six months ago of a heart attack. Yuri was there when it happened.”


	5. Skating away from your problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments/subs ect. You guys are amazing. We now have a Victor chapter, slightly more serious than previous chapters but bear with me...

Chapter Five

 

_Victor_

“The main part you should know is before he came to live with me, Yuri was raised by his grandfather. He died six months ago of a heart attack. Yuri was there when it happened.” Victor began. It was hardly a secret but he knew Yuri got upset when people other than him tried bringing it up. Nikolai Yuravich Plisetsky had been Yuri’s only caregiver for most of his life. They had made a strange pair, Yuri with his small and delicate frame dwarfed by his grandpa, a mountain of a man who had supposedly taken part in illegal boxing matches back in his youth. But nevertheless, the two of them had been inseparable.

“Oh my god.” Yuuri gasped, his large brown eyes widening behind his glasses.

“Yuri was always a lively child but he hasn’t been the same since it happened,” Victor explained as he cleared their empty plates and put them in the dishwasher. “It was a traumatic loss for him, which is why he’s been acting out so much. I arranged for him to meet with a counselor but the language barrier is a problem and I suspect that he’s just refusing to talk to her in their sessions.”

 “Victor, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you think it’s wise for you to go to Russia and leave him alone like this?” Victor started. He was surprised that Yuuri could speak so candidly when they had only met the day before and he didn't seem the sort of person who would want to cause offense. Yuuri must have read something in his face as he immediately began apologizing. “I’m sorry, I’m sticking my nose in, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, you’re right. The timing is really bad.” Victor said, feeling a little stung, but the man had a point. Victor was well aware that he had been throwing himself into his work lately to avoid being at home. His whole life he had sworn to himself that he would never become an absent father, and yet here he was, repeating history. Not that he had ever expected to be a parent so soon, which was no excuse, he was twenty-seven and plenty of people his age had already started families. “I – I honestly thought I would have more time after I retired but so far...”

“Hey, look, forget I said anything. You’re doing your best.” Yuuri interrupted. “It must be difficult trying to do this on your own.” Victor really didn’t know what to say to that so he changed the subject.

“I’m just going to put Yuri to bed. Why don’t you just relax and get settled.”

“Oh, um alright. I might turn in early, I think.”

“I usually leave by seven most mornings but you can call my cell if there are any problems. I had you added to the school register so they’ll know who you are. Am I forgetting anything? Oh yes, if you could walk Makkachin tomorrow morning, that would be fantastic.”

“Ok great, well goodnight then.”

“Goodnight Yuuri.”

In hindsight, hiring Yuuri Katsuki was probably a bad idea. Not because Victor thought he would be bad for the job despite his lack of experience. At this point, Yuri had driven off some seasoned professionals. No, the problem with Yuuri Katsuki was that he was surprising.

He hadn’t seemed that out of the ordinary at first, although it seemed a little weird that he would go from majoring in dance to working in childcare. Victor assumed he needed a paying job and had applied for a number of things. He had seemed so shy and unassuming and nothing like the people from the agency who had made it subtly clear that they would no longer be sending applicants his way. Word had obviously gotten round about the Jennifer incident, combined with the fact that good nannies were in high demand in the city and most of the applicants he had met with could afford to be picky. Victor had felt that they had been interviewing him not the other way around. One of them had flat out asked him if he had a house in the Hamptons which he had found rather rude. Another suggested he put Yuri on Adderall even though she had no credentials in medicine or child psychology.

 Yuuri, on the other hand, had seemed so sincere, so empathetic, and had held himself with all the awkward charm of someone who had no idea how attractive they really were. Perhaps he had only recently grown into his looks, or perhaps he had been picked on as a child to make him act in such a way. Nevertheless, Victor had found himself enraptured by the way Yuuri’s face lit up at the sight of Makkachin, or how gracefully his hands moved when he talked about his hometown in Japan. Victor could barely keep his composure, eagerly wanting to introduce him to Yuri, because if he could see what a sweet kid he really was behind the hundred or so layers of angry façade he put up, then, that was it, he had to stay.

 

It hadn’t gone so well, Yuri had sneered at him and said if Victor wanted a boyfriend he should just go to a bar or something and leave him out of it. But aside from the whole name sharing thing, his brother hadn’t objected to Yuuri as much as he expected. It hadn’t exactly been necessary to lend Yuuri a change of clothes but it had definitely been worth it because that baggy sweater was an abomination. It was inappropriate of him but Victor had stared a little too long once Yuuri had emerged looking lovelier than ever and blushing behind his spectacles. In a moment of madness, he had invited him Yuuri to move in early.

 

Of course, Yuuri would have a boyfriend waiting for him outside. Why were all the nice ones already in relationships? Well, because they were nice, evidently. To make it worse the boyfriend seemed equally nice as the pair embraced happily outside his building. Maybe he was just assuming things, he wasn't especially well versed in American hugging etiquette after all. But even if Yuuri were single, flirting with your employee was a bit of a morally gray area and probably a terrible idea. So Victor would just have to live with the fact that he would have to share his home with the extremely attractive, and extremely off limits Yuuri Katsuki, and all of the sexual frustration it would inevitably bring.

Then he had seen the video. It wasn’t so much that they had coincidentally performed to the same song, lots of people had used it in the past, it was how he had performed it. Yuuri, a little younger and a little softer in the face danced as though the music was flowing through him, as delicate as a leaf carried on a summer breeze. He had scoured the internet for another video but had only found him in the background in a few dance company performances at his college where for whatever reason his performance was nowhere near as energetic. He had to settle for the original link, that had been part of a student show reel at the Okukawa Dance Studio in Hasetsu. The name rang a bell, and upon a quick google search, Victor realized he had seen her before. Minako Okukawa had won the Benois de la Danse for best female dancer the same year Lilia Baranovskaya had received her lifetime achievement award. No wonder Yuuri was so captivating, he had been taught by one of Japan’s greatest dancers.

 

But, if Yuuri had sent him this, that must have meant he had watched Victor’s old free skate, and it was an old one, from his senior debut. If only he had happier memories of it. Not the program itself, he had done extremely well that year and had won bronze in the Grand Prix Final. In his Junior days, Yakov had controlled every element of his programs, but by the end of the season, Victor had altered them so drastically that they might as well have been different routines altogether, adding quads which at that time had been strictly forbidden. He had been an idiot back then, and he was paying for it now as he had wrecked his knees over the years. But once he had joined the senior division Yakov had backed down a little and let him attempt his own choreography and choose his own music. Victor had never looked back.

 

 

“Are you okay?” Victor asked in Russian as he poked his head around Yuri’s bedroom door.

“Fantastic,” Yuri grumbled, not looking up from the DS game he was playing. The nine-year-old lay sprawled diagonally across the bed with Makkachin laying across his stomach. Victor knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to let pets sleep on the bed with you but Makka only had to look at him with those sad eyes and his resolve would crumble. Yuri had been having nightmares periodically and as though sensing his distress Makka would go and sleep next to him.

“I thought you had homework.” Victor continued.

“I finished.”

“Yura…”

“What?” Yuri sat up and subjected Victor to a one-eyed glare from under his bangs. He reminded Victor of a cat from one of the old Soviet cartoons he used to watch.

Could you at least try to behave tomorrow, please?” Victor asked. No answer. “I know you can take care of yourself. But I can’t leave you on your own, it’s against the law.”

“I know that.”

“Well, is it because you don’t like Yuuri? You don’t even know him yet.” Victor asked.

“I don’t need to know him, he’s obviously and idiot.”

“Now you’re just being silly.” Victor laughed. “Come on, put the game away, it’s time for bed.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Well, you can read a little. Something in English, that might tire you out.” Yuri huffed sulkily. “I’m serious Yuri. You can be angry at me all you want, but please don’t take it out on Yuuri, he’s only here to help.”

“Fine, but I have some terms.”

“Terms? What on earth are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to go to chess club anymore.” That wasn’t what Victor had been expecting. Yuri had made it into the Russian junior championships last year in the under 11s category and frankly, this had probably been a deciding factor in Yuri getting offered a last minute place at his current school that prided itself on its chess academy and where the kindergarten alone seemed to have a two-year waiting list.

“I thought you liked chess.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Do you think that maybe, you’re trying to avoid it because it reminds you of Kolya?”

“I just don’t see the point in playing anymore.”

“Ok well, we can do that, I think. Anything else? You look like you want something else.”

“I want,“ Yuri said quietly, “I want to learn how to skate.”

“Really?” Victor said, “Well, okay, if that’s what you really want I can arrange some lessons.”

“No, I want you to teach me! Just you. And if I’m good then I want you to coach me,” Yuri cried. Victor didn’t know whether to feel flattered or worried. He had read the book Yuri’s counselor had given him that said children suffering from traumatic loss could sometimes avoid things that reminded them of the deceased person and attempt to forge new and sometimes very dependent relationships with someone else. Yuri was definitely dependent on him, at least emotionally, becoming openly hostile to anyone who intruded. What if he was just trying to get Victor to like him?

“Yura…” he said uselessly.

“Remember when we came to see you at the Rostelecom Cup?” the boy continued earnestly.

“Yes, I brought Makka with me so you could meet him.”

“You said your first time on the ice was the first time you felt truly free and all your problems disappeared for a moment.” Skating away from his problems, yeah that sounded like him.

“Did I say that? Wow, I must have been trying to sound clever.”

“Well, I want to feel like that.”

“You shouldn’t take what I say so seriously, Yura.” Yuri seemed to have learned Makkachin’s puppy face. Then he thought about what Yuuri had said. Maybe spending more time together doing something different would help things. “Fine, yes I’ll teach you,” he said finally “After I get back from Petersburg. Just be good okay. No running away, no hiding people’s medication, no fighting at school and definitely no prank calls to the police saying you’ve been kidnapped. You can fight with me all you want, but you will show Yuuri some respect. Otherwise, that’s it, no second chances.”

“You’ll really do it?”

“If you behave.”

“You won’t forget?”

“I promise,” Victor said kissing the top of Yuri’s head and going to turn out the light.

“Can I have a kitten?” Yuri added.

“Don’t push it.” Victor retorted. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”


	6. Best Katsudon Ever!

Chapter Six

 

Yuuri did his best to be up and dressed before seven but only managed to catch Victor as he was leaving for work. He had barely slept the night before, the sounds of a new building combined with his nerves about the following day made sleep impossible. He never imagined that he would miss his old apartment, that was tiny and poorly insulated and smelled of yesterday’s cooking and Phichit’s hamsters.

“Ah Yuuri, Did you sleep well?” Victor said as he gracefully put on his coat. Was that a criticism? Was he supposed to get up earlier?

“I- Yes, very well thank you.” Yuuri lied. He probably looked terrible with his hair sticking up in every direction.

“I left you some coffee,” Victor told him. “Good luck today, call me if there’s a problem.” And with that, he was out the door leaving Yuuri standing awkwardly in the hallway.

On the kitchen counter was a French press filled halfway with steaming hot coffee. Victor had left a post-it note with a drawing of a sun with a smiley face on it. Yuuri wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, rarely going beyond a caramel latte, but it had been a long time since he had been up this early and the offering was exactly what he needed.

Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure how to begin his first day. He had about fifteen minutes before he was supposed to get Yuri up for school. Should he make breakfast? A quick inspection of the fridge revealed almost nothing as did the food cupboard. Yuuri decided to make a grocery list instead, taking note of the brands they used and began throwing out the expired milk. He was almost finished when Yuri emerged from his room yawning like a sleepy kitten, toting a very heavy looking school bag.

“Oh hey, what do you want for breakfast?” Yuuri greeted, feeling slightly relieved that he hadn’t needed to wake him up.

Yuri just pushed past him and poured himself a bowl of cereal then, to Yuuri’s surprise, helped himself to a cup of coffee which he took black and without any sugar.

“Okay then,” Yuuri said, shocked and perhaps a little impressed. Wasn’t coffee supposed to stunt your growth or something?

“Where is Victor?” Yuri asked in his usual annoyed tone.

“Oh, he just left.”

“Of course he did.” The boy’s face fell a little, before reverting to his usual grumpy expression.

“I was planning on buying some groceries later, do you have any requests?”

“What?”

“Do you want anything from Whole Foods?” he clarified, remembering that he was still learning English.

“No, thank you.”

“Okay well, if you think of anything let me know.”

“I should go.”

“Great, have you got everything?”

“Obviously,” Yuri said slinging his book bag over his shoulder.

“Do you need money?” Yuri picked up ten dollars that Victor must have left for him on the kitchen table.

“Got it.”

“Okay, well let me just get my stuff.”

“I can go on my own. I don’t need you.”

“Well, that may be but I need to walk Makkachin,” Yuuri said attempting to attach Makkachin’s leash to his collar while slipping his shoes on at the same time. “So instead of me taking you to school, we can just be two people who happen to be going the same way.”

“Ugh, loser,” Yuri muttered but didn’t object any further.

While Yuri’s attitude was far from sunny, he wasn’t nearly as difficult as Yuuri had been expecting, and he wondered what had happened in the meantime to make him change his behavior.

“So how long have you been learning English?” Yuuri asked as they left the building.

“Three years elementary school, six months intensive,” he replied but didn’t elaborate.

“Seriously? That’s amazing!” Yuuri cried. “I mean your English is very good.” He didn’t know much about the Russian education system, but it was evident that Yuri had become proficient extremely quickly. Yuri didn’t reply and began to walk a few steps ahead as they continued their journey in silence.

The school was only four blocks away and looked very exclusive and very expensive with its redbrick exterior and elaborate iron railings, as well as the collection of waspy, impeccably styled mothers chatting by the school gate. Yuuri felt more than a little intimidated by the whole thing.

“Well, have a good day,” He began to say, but Yuri was already walking up the front steps and through the main entrance with the other children, without so much as glancing in Yuuri’s direction. “And he’s gone. Yep, he’s gone.” Yuuri peered down at Makkachin who was staring up at him and happily wagging his tail. “You like me, right?”

Once they reached Central Park, Yuuri let Makkachin lead the way for the most part before finding a place to let him off his leash for a while. He hardly ever came to this part of town, and the park was a strange island of calm in the hectic city. Despite being quite old, Makkachin was full of energy and clearly delighted with Yuuri’s stick throwing abilities.

They returned to the apartment just after nine, and Yuuri discovered that upon closer inspection the place wasn’t nearly as clean as it looked. He hadn’t seen so many dirty clothes on the floor since freshman year. Yuuri didn’t think of himself as being a neat freak, but after spending most of his life in tiny living spaces he had learned to be tidy. It occurred to him that the kitchen was only clean because it was hardly ever used. He spent the rest of the morning doing laundry and vacuuming an alarming amount of dog hair out of the carpeting.

Victor’s room was every bit as stylish as the rest of the apartment, with modern Scandinavian style furniture, an incredibly luxurious master bathroom and a walk in closet that would make Phichit faint, but like everything else in that place, there were very few personal touches. Yuri’s room was a mess of books, toy cars and plush toys of various animals including a dog that looked like a miniature Makkachin and a large collection of big cat species. However, aside from the Olympic medal in the guest bathroom, Victor’s living space was strikingly impersonal. There were books, mostly glossy design monographs and novels in a mixture of Russian and English, all generic titles from the best-seller list. There was a cheap snow globe of St Basil’s Cathedral on a shelf next to an exquisitely decorated silver enamel box and a framed ink drawing of an elegant woman wearing a ballet costume on the wall. His home office on the other hand, which doubled up as a makeshift design studio, was an Aladdin’s cave of fabric samples, trimmings, sketches and mood boards. The main drawing board held a number of designs for skating costumes, including one that looked like a Greek goddess in white and gold and a men’s costume in a deep plum color that looked as though ink had been dripped over one shoulder.

Suddenly his phone went off and Yuuri jumped as though he had been caught snooping. It was a text from Victor which read:

_‘Won’t be home until late. Could you make Yuri something for dinner and put him to bed please?’_

Yuuri quickly sent off a reply then remembered that there was no food in the house. Then an idea struck him. Phichit had said his Katsudon could win anyone over. Yuuri had never quite been able to make it as good as his mother’s, but it had always gone down well whenever he made it for his friends. It was worth a try, right? He searched for the nearest Japanese supermarket and set out on his mission. Victor had given him a credit card to use for household expenses and after stopping for a sandwich for lunch, Yuuri began to put it to good use. He was going to make the best Katsudon ever.


	7. What would Brian Boitano do?

Chapter Seven

 

By five o’clock, Yuuri had restocked the food cupboard, had made the kitchen and bathrooms sparkly and lemony fresh, and done two loads of laundry and ironing, blushing slightly as he folded Victor’s underwear and picturing what he would look like wearing said underwear. Damn, he really was having a sexual awakening…

Finally, he went back to the school, or Hogwarts as he had started to call it, to pick up Yuri from one of his numerous after school clubs. Victor’s approach to letting Yuri cope with grief seemed to be making sure the kid was occupied every hour of the day. He had 3D design and engineering on Mondays, fencing on Tuesdays (Seriously? Fencing?), English support on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and chess club on Fridays as well as a weekly session with the school counselor. Yuuri didn’t remember much from his time in middle school, beyond being a chubby kid with no friends, but he had definitely never had that level extra-curricular activities on offer.

He checked in with the school offices, but the receptionist seemed a little confused when he gave his name.

“Oh yes, right, of course, Mr. Nikiforov added you to the pickup list this morning correct?” the woman at reception said after he gave his name again and called up to Yuri’s classroom. “So you’re called Yuri too?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Yuuri wondered if he should have shown her his ID. “Two Yuris, that’s kind of our thing.”

“Well it’s nice that he gets to go home early for a change,” she said, seeming to know Yuri quite well, even though the school had over a thousand students.

“Early? I thought club activities were over.”

“Oh they are, but some of the younger students stay until six in the childcare program. Busy parents you know. Yuri’s been stuck hanging around for weeks now.”

“Oh, ok.”

“He’s been doing so well lately with his English, you and Mr. Nikiforov must be very proud.” He and…wait did she think he was Victor’s partner?

“I uh, yeah very proud.”

“Kids are so quick at learning things, aren’t they? Something to do with brain plasticity. It really is incredible.” She continued when Yuri slouched into the office carrying what looked like a battered architectural model. “Ah speak of the devil.”

“Hey kid,” Yuuri greets, “how was your day.”

“Fine,” Yuri growled in a way that sounded anything but fine and began to walk away.

“Okay then,” Yuuri said, a little deflated.

“Bye bye now.” The receptionist called after them.

“Bye Miss Penderghast,” Yuri called back.

Once they were outside Yuri began to storm off without looking at him. As much as he was trying to hide it, Yuuri noticed that he was clearly upset.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“It broke, ” Yuri said tersely holding up the model of what had once been a building made of foamex and popsicle sticks. It seemed as though he had a lot more to say on the matter that he either couldn’t put into words or didn’t want to talk about.

“Oh no,” Yuuri said sympathetically, “Well, maybe we can take a look at it when we get home, I’m sure it’s nothing a little krazy glue won’t fix.”

They walked home, once again in relative silence and Yuri retreated to his bedroom like he had done the previous evening. Yuuri got started with dinner, relieved that he had thought to bring his rice cooker when he moved in since Victor didn’t own one. It had been a while since he’d made Katsudon since deep frying usually made the apartment smell and he generally tried to eat healthily. However, he did occasionally make it when he had a comfort food emergency and this definitely counted as an emergency. Cooking this way always made him nostalgic, his mother had taught him everything he knew while he spent most of his teens helping out at the onsen.

 

*

 

“What is it?” Yuri said incredulously when the meal was served.

“It’s Katsudon, fried pork cutlet with eggs on rice.”

Yuri looked suspicious, but to his credit, he wasn’t a fussy eater and tried a small mouthful. Almost immediately his eyes widened and quickly ate the rest of it.

“Okay, you can stay. This does not mean I like you…” he said after finishing the whole bowl. “Is there more?”

“Sure, I made extra,” Yuuri said, mentally breathing a sigh of relief.

“What else do you make?”

“Well, lots of things really. Ramen noodles, curry, Italian food. What’s your favorite dish? Maybe I can make it for you.”

Yuri looked like he was about to answer but hesitated. “No. No, you can’t,” he said instead.

“Okay, well, if you ever change your mind, just ask,” Yuuri replied, not pushing any further. He must have touched on something painful. “Do you want to try and fix your model now?”

“Okay.”

While the meal didn’t exactly break the ice between them, Yuri at the very least seemed to be tolerating him. Together they rebuilt the model house, which looked as though it might have been dropped on the floor or, much more worryingly, deliberately smashed. They then began reading The Secret Garden in preparation for Yuri’s book report project, with Yuri reading aloud and Yuuri explaining the new words that came up, like ‘contrary’ and ‘moor’, and ‘cholera’. To be honest, it was a pretty ambitious book for an English learner.

 

“He’s not coming home, is he?” Yuri said suddenly when it was time for bed. Yuuri assumed he was referring to Victor since it was almost nine.

“No, he had to work late. He said he’s really sorry,” Yuuri added even though Victor had said nothing of the sort. Yuri seemed to close off again.

“Asshole.”

*

 

After Yuri had gone to bed, Yuuri cleaned up the kitchen and ended up dozing in front of the TV in the living room. The sound of Makkachin whining and scratching at the door woke him up sometime later, and a look at the clock showed that it was past eleven and Victor still wasn’t home yet.

“I’m sorry, boy. Do you need to poop?” he said groggily and went to get his leash. He only had the energy for a short walk and knew that while the bone-chilling winter was hadn't arrived yet it was still incredibly cold outside. He had just left the building when Victor almost ran straight into them.

“Makkachin! Oh, Моя чашка кофе!” he exclaimed loudly and began babbling in Russian and kneeling down on the sidewalk to hug his dog.  “Did you miss me? Have you been a good boy? Have you been good for Yuuri?”

“He’s been great. It’s been so long since I’ve looked after a dog. It’s – nice.”

“That’s because he’s the best dog in the world.” Victor wobbled uncertainly as he got to his feet.

“Victor, are you drunk?” Yuuri asked since he was acting a little strange and his nose had turned pink.

 

“Only slightly,” Victor replied. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually make a habit of staying out so late. And on your first day too. I had to meet an investor for dinner, and dinner turned into drinks and I just lost track of time.” Well, at least he had the sense to apologize.

 

“Well, it’s okay. I was just going to walk Makkachin.” Yuuri said.

 

“What? No no you’ve already done more than enough today. I’ll take him. You go and relax.”

 

“It’s really no trouble. If you want to, I dunno, sleep it off.”

 

“Please, I insist.”

 

“I’m already out, seriously its fine.” Victor frowned.

“Well in that case maybe we could go together?” the other man said, raising a silver eyebrow. Yuuri gaped. Was he? Was Victor flirting with him? No, he probably acted this way with everyone when he was tipsy. Yuuri knew a thing or two about saying stupid stuff under the influence.

“I – Sure.” He said finally.

The park was empty and due to close within the hour, and it was still cold enough to see his own breath.

“I saw some of your designs earlier, they were amazing,” Yuuri said, attempting to make small talk, then instantly regretted it. “I mean; I didn’t touch anything I was just doing the vacuuming.”

“It’s fine, I’m glad you like them. My former coach commissioned them for the next season, I think he misses me.” Victor smiled.

“Well, you did win five World Championships. If I was your coach I’d miss you too.” Yuuri said feeling incredibly uninformed about figure skating.

“I feel guilty for leaving him, I hope I haven’t let him down.” Victor continued.

“Really? Why?”

“I left rather suddenly last year. I guess he thought I had another year in me, but, you know, the whole thing with Yuri happened. Not that I regret the decision, it was the right time. End on a high note, as they say.”

“I guess.”

“Are you interested in skating?” Victor asked suddenly, swinging around a lamppost and turning back to face him, as though he were Gene Kelly or something ridiculous.

“Who me? Honestly, I just looked you up after our interview.” Yuuri said hopelessly “I didn’t know anything about it, except for maybe Brian Boitano and even then that was only because of South Park.”

“He’s a little before my time, I’m afraid.” Victor laughed. “Come on, it’s getting late. Let’s go home.” he made to leave and Yuuri felt a strange jolt at the way he said ‘home’, as though he was already a part of it.


End file.
